The Story of his Birth
by AmadErik
Summary: Story of Erik (The Phantom)'s birth via his mother's flashback. Leroux based


**Marseilles, France October, 1870**

- Is he coming yet? Marie-Sophie... is he here?

- No, Madame, but he said he will be here shortly. - the maid put a wet cloth on that hot forehead covered in sweat. - How is Madame doing?

- Quickly, please quickly. I don't have much time left.

- I have already asked the doctor to come, Madame, he will ...

- But the priest? The priest? Where is he? - the old woman grabbed the maid's hand excitedly and tried to sit up, but she started coughing instantly.

- I have told you, Madame it isn't good for you. Please stay still. The priest will be here in a few minutes, I promise.

- I have to tell him something.

- Good, just please don't be so excited. It is not good for you. I don't know where that doctor is, he should be here...

- To the Hell with the doctor. - the old woman said passionately- He can't help me anymore. I know it. Why did you... waste time by running fetch him? I told you that I need... the priest first. - she let out a series of gasps and lay down on her pillows exhausted. The maid walked out of the bedroom, she hoped that the Madame finally fell asleep. She was worried about her, since she got sick, she did not have a good night sleep. She acted so strange, she had never seen her like this before. The always calm and sometimes bit of too cold Madame was so passionate now.

Suddenly three loud knocks came from the direction of the front door and Marie- Sophie ran to open it before it could wake the Madame. The priest stood there, looking at her worriedly.

- Is she doing better? - he asked softly.

- No Father, she had fever all morning and I am afraid... - her voice faded away in a little sob, but she cleared her throat quickly.

- It is very sad. - the priest waved his head sadly. - I think then I can only make her feel better emotionally.

- She said she had to tell you something very important. - the maid put her hand under her apron and hurried behind the priest towards the bedroom upstairs. - She... she might be asleep, Father.

- Father...?- the soft hoarse voice coming out of the half shut door was filled with hope and eager.

- Yes, my sister. I am here and don't be afraid. - the priest stepped in the bedroom and took the bony cold hand.

- Send the girl away. - she sighed tiredly as she noticed the nervous maid tapping her feet against the soft carpet. - It is a secret that no one should ever hear... no one but you, Father.

The priest turned around gesturing to the girl that she has to leave. She shut the door behind herself and the priest sat down on the chair next to the bed.

- Would not it be better if I let you sleep first? - he asked gently, looking at the pale face.

- No. If I fall asleep I know I will die. I have to tell you this first, only then I can rest in peace. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My sin is even worse because it was against a child.

- Child? - the priest asked with surprise, as the woman was a widow and she never mentioned anything about her family. Everyone in Marseilles thought she had no one ever.

- Yes, Father. I start... at the beginning. I think... it will be more understandable... if I tell you... about my family first. But I would ask you to please write this all I say down and seal it. I am sorry that I ask it, but I did not want to tell it to the girl because she tells everything to everyone. I only trust you. So I ask that you write it down and seal it in an envelope. Then hide it in that closet full of sheet musics. Do you see it Father? There in the corner. There he will find it I am sure.

- Who is "he"? - the priest asked while putting a piece of paper in front of him on that little coffee table.

The woman did not reply. She closed her eyes and as she had an exam, she started to tell her well- edited and thought speech.

_" I was born in a noble family as a middle child. I had an older brother, Jacques- Louis, and a younger brother, Denis-Martin. Sadly he died at the age of one, so only Jacques and I survived our childhood. I had a very sweet childhood without any problems or difficulties. I was so happy until I turned 15. _

_ My father, as a nobleman, felt his duty to find me a good and wealthy husband to make the family even richer, of course. He chose the most annoying boy ever: George-Romain de Vertier. He was the "perfect match" for me as both of my parents agreed. I did not. I hated him with all my heart, he cold not think of anything but himself, he drank, he played cards... and of course he could not say no to any woman near him even if he had a fiancée. I did not want to spend my life in this Hell with him. I was trying to gain time by learning, taking ballet classes and asking my mother to teach me to cook and take care of a household so I could be a good wife. They did not understand why was it necessary as I will sure have maids to do it for me, but I was so desperate and stubborn that my parents let me learn the things I wanted. _

_ But when I turned 17 there wasn't another choice any more, the wanted us to get engaged at last. I was so clueless of what to do, but I knew I will never marry George-Romain even if my life depended on it. And then, I decided to run away from my home. I have never seen my parents any more."_

The woman sighed and tears were flowing down on her face. But she dried her eyes and continued before the priest could have interrupted her.

_" I was wandering for some days until I found a house and I asked the host to allow me to stay there for a few nights. He was kind to me and we found out we had the same thoughts about many things and we wanted the same of life. He was working as a contractor, his name was Maurice. His wife died 3 years before and since that he lived alone. I think my parents would have died of shame if they knew about our relationship because he was "only" a contractor and he was older than me by 25 years. I did not care about that. I was so happy with him and well, after a few months we have spent together I became pregnant. Maurice married me when we found it out, because he did not want the villagers to gossip about me, and because we loved each other and planned to raise our child together in happiness. "_

She looked at the ceiling and sighed again. She closed her eyes and in her mind she was laying in her bed next to Maurice at that night and she could feel the pain that woke her up then...

**A little village near Rouen, France, November 1825**

- Oh Maurice... Maurice... wake up lease and run to fetch the doctor...I think...

- Can't you stay still even in the middle of the night? Let me sleep why the fuss?

- But sweetie, I believe...

- It isn't Sunday to believe, you should do it at the church. Shut your face please I want to sleep.

- I am... about to give birth!

The man moaned then sat up in bed. Only then he realized what was going on. He quickly got up but was constantly acting grumpy.

- Well son, you could not wait any longer, huh? Do you know what the time is? It is 2 o clock AM. Plus, now I have to run for a doctor in this cold weather early in the dawn. You are so talented chosing the right time. - he put his coat on and he smiled at his wife. - Please take good care of yourselves. I will be right back.

He left the house and the cold weather instantly woke him up. He was so excited and happy thinking of he will soon be able to hold his son in his arms. Because no doubt, it will be a boy, no matter how his wife is pulling his leg by saying constantly she is going to brush the tiny girl's hair all the time. He can't be fooled, it will be a boy as it fits for a first child. How sweet it will be to teach him to everything he knows. Maybe the boy will be even smarter than him and he will be an architect. How proud will he be of little Maurice then. As Maurice will be his name, a good first boy child has to get his father's name. He dried his eyes full of tears of joy and hurried towards the doctor's house.

Though sadly he arrived back to his house without a doctor or midwife an hour later. The little village had only one doctor, he was 80 years old and grumpy enough for his age. He was more afraid and worried about his own health than walking outside in this cold foggy weather so early just to help a whiny new mother to give birth. And plus, he wasn't totally sane, as never ever in his life. He told Maurice to leave him alone and go search the midwife, it is not a doctor's job to help with a normal childbirth and go back to him only if there is a serious problem then he slammed the window he opened to talk to Maurice.

The midwife was out of the village, she went to another village nearby to help with another childbirth that started earlier, so Maurice had to run home alone. As he stepped in the bedroom he saw that his wife is suffering from pain, crying out loud.

- Shut your face, you- he said gently and softly. - You are waking the whole village up and you are just scaring and tiring my son. Concentrate on him, not on you.

- It... it hurts. - the woman gasped, squeezing the man's strong hand.

- It will go away. - Maurice said softly, trying to calm her down. - Sure it isn't pleasant for the child either. My mother gave birth to my brothers and sisters as well but she did not yell like this with any of them. Just relax.

A long time had passed like this, Maurice tried to calm his wife and she was suffering, until finally she gave birth to a boy. It was really a boy. But she only saw that her husband's face turns pale as he saw the baby and he collapsed on the floor with a big thud. The woman leaned closer to him worriedly. She thought the child is sure dead, that's why Maurice fainted. They were waiting for this little one so happily and now he had to hold his dead child and it made him this disappointed. Yes it must be dead, as the child was silent. "Oh, my God, poor thing.", she thought with sorry and covered her mouth with one hand.

- Maurice... - she called his name with sympathy. The man laying on the floor did not move. - Maurice... - still no answer came. The woman, collecting all her strength, sat up in bed and looked where she thought the baby should be. She wasn't be able to find words to describe that sight. She fainted back at her pillow with a loud scream.

When she opened her eyes she still was laying on her bed, and her husband was still on the ground. She did not dare to look at the thing at her feet, but she was disgusted of even the thought of it, even if dead, lays at her feet. It is sure dead... well he looks like he had been dead for years, even though he was born only a little while ago. Two black holes where his eyes should be, he has no nose and he is as pale and disgusting, skeletal as a corpse. A baby corpse. There are no words to describe how disgusting was that little... something. Is that a child? No, sure it isn't a child, it isn't her son. It is not even here. It must be a nightmare she will wake up soon and...she took a scared gaze at the monster laying at her feet. It, to her utter shock, suddenly... moved! It moved its skeletal arm. She screamed and kicked in that direction uncontrollably. No, this can't be alive... she kicked the child's side and as her bare feet touched it's skin she felt disgust: the little monster had cold skin like a reptile.

The child fell off of the bed because of the kick, it knocked as it landed on the floor, then made a wheezing noise. It turned his head from side to side for a time and was making strange noises, and after he cried out with full effort. But this cry wasn't like an ordinary baby cry, it could have been described by words, but somehow it was magical. Magically enchanting. The woman felt she had to go closer to him. It was like a little angel cried out of that horrible dead throat. She slowly woke up and went on her knees next to the child. He was still crying because of the pain he had.

- Please forgive me. - she wanted to comfort him and gently put her hand under the child's back, but as she touched his skin again she felt very disgusted again. She simply could not bear to touch him. She grabbed a piece of white cloth and tried to pick him up with that, like this she succeeded. She put him back in bed, and sat down on the ground next to her husband.

- Maurice... wake up, the child is alive. - she said softly and poked the man. No answer. - Maurice... please wake up. - she repeated, shaking Maurice stronger and stronger. The man had been laying there motionless for too long time as she thought of it. She gasped in horror. - Maurice! - she did not recognize her own voice. She checked the man's pulse with horror. She felt nothing. She was sobbing hard, her shoulders shook as she cried and jumped up and she ran out of the house to the snowy garden as she was, in nightgown, barefoot. She wanted to cry out for help but she heard the little monster's cry from the house again. She started to think for a second. If she calls everyone here now they will see that thing and they will sure kill it. She was afraid of him but it was too scary and horrible to think of the scared and angry villagers will murder it in various painful ways. She could her the painful screams of the tortured boy in her mind and she knew that she had to save the thing from its painful end.

She hurried back to the house and lifted the little ugly thing up from the bed. She was running around in the house for a few minutes, searching for a good place to hide him. Then she found the right solution: the cellar. She took the baby down to the cellar and put him on a few blankets on the ground. She covered the baby up so he finally became a bundle of clothes.

- Please be quiet. Your life is in danger otherwise. - she told the child and she ran back upstairs, closing the cellar door. She put her ear on the door to make sure he wasn't crying. As she heard nothing she ran out of the house again and hurried to the doctor's house.

The old doctor was so sorry and surprised to see the woman at his door, she was trembling with cold and fear.

- Please come quickly, doctor- she sobbed- Maurice... Maurice... is dead. - she hugged the doctor's shoulders as she let out a series of gasps from crying out loud.

- Dead? - the doctor asked with a very surprised tone in his voice. He leaned close to the poor trembling woman. - And the child? I can see you gave birth. - she could not deny that fact. Her normal sized belly and bloody nightgown told the truth. She started crying real hard as she thought of that little monster again.

- Is it dead too? - the doctor asked with compassion.

The woman did not reply. She wished if it was. But it is still alive. The doctor picked up his coat and bag and followed the pale, trembling woman who did not even let the doctor to give her a lighter coat against the cold. She heard, felt and saw nothing at all, she walked towards her house like a machine. When they entered the house's bedroom he could see a big Louis- Philippe bed unmade, with bloody sheets from the childbirth. Next to the bed on the ground, there lay Maurice. The doctor quickly started to examine him, but after a few minutes he looked up at her with a sad expression.

- I am very sorry. He had a fateful heart attack.

- When... did he die? - the woman was so emotionally drained at that point that she could not show any emotion any more.

- I believe he died about an hour ago.

- In that exact moment... - the woman muttered to herself and sat down in one of the armchairs in the room.

- Is the child dead too? - the woman got startled by the doctor's sudden question and she did not even know what he was talking about at first. - May I look at the child? - the doctor repeated, putting his hand on her shoulder. The woman slowly nodded. She thought maybe the doctor can tell her what is the matter with the child. She took a few dizzy steps out of the room, thinking of where the child might be. Then she remembered it was still in the cellar. A few minutes later he appeared at the bedroom door with the little bundle in her hands.

- Please be careful when you look at it. - she whispered while giving the child to the doctor. He lifted the cloth off of the child's face and he gasped in horror.

- Lord have mercy!- he exclaimed. - I am too little for this, Madame...- he paused. - call the priest...

- Will he die as well? . the woman asked with a sigh.

- I don't know... but I think it would be better to baptize him, just to be sure... I think he won't survive for too long... Look how skinny and little and...

- Ugly he is.

- Well, yes, quite.- the doctor cleared his throat. - But... well, Madame, I am leaving. I call the Father and he will take the actions necessary at this moment. I am very sorry. I don't know what kind of illness he has... I have never seen such a thing ever in my life, and I bet even my grandfather or great grandfather had never seen such a thing either. God bless you, Madame. - the doctor wanted to put the child on the bed and hurry away, but she softly called his name. He looked back at her.

- Would you be so kind to take that away from this room? I don't want to stay here alone with it.

- Where should I put it?

- Just... put it somewhere... thank you. - she sat down again, and buried her face in her hands and was sobbing. The doctor quietly walked out of the room and put the child down on the table in the main salon. He looked at it with mixed feelings. He was both disgusted and felt sorry for the thing.

- If I may give you an advice- he looked in the child's sunken deformed eyes- it will be better for you in Heaven. You can do nothing about your illness as nobody else can, but you would better... you see. It will be easier for you if you do. God bless you, poor thing. - he left with this. It won't survive. The whole time it has been silent. Maybe he is already dead... but he did not look back to check if it was. He left to search for the priest.

The little boy started crying in the salon after a few minutes. His mother, who lay down to take a nap, lifted her head and took a miserable, sad look towards the door. It is still alive. This little living dead is still alive. And again this angelic beauty in his voice. She could not escape from that. She tried to cover her ears and put the pillow on her head, but it helped nothing. She climbed out of the bed and walked towards the salon. The boy on the table was kicking with his little thin legs and he was crying. The mother looked at him. It had its eyes open. Till now she could only see black holes, but now she saw the child had glowing yellow eyes, like a cat. She got soscared that she took a few steps backwards. The boy looked at his mother with pleading eyes and he cried. "It might be hungry." she thought. True, he was alive for more than 2 hours and it did not get anything to eat yet.

- No matter how ugly and scary you are, you deserve some food and decent clothes... you can't stay here like this, like an animal. - she said and lifted the boy carefully, making sure she won't touch him, only the cloth. The boy was crying still.

- You don't even know how much reason you really have to cry- the mother said softly. - Maybe it is even better this way, that you can't get it. - she cried as well, dropping a few tears on the boy's forehead. She did her duty, she fed the child with some milk and carried him in the other room to dress him in one of the clothes she made for the baby during her pregnancy. She got a sudden idea and opened the drawer where she had the handkerchiefs and put one of Maurice's on the child's face. As it was good to look at it that way, she cut two holes for the eyes and tied it on his head not to fall off when he moves. She sighed with relief, but she was crying at the same time. She felt guilty and sorry for the boy. As she finished with the mask, she felt she could not stay any longer and left the boy in a basket on the table.

- Sleep. - she looked back from the door and shut it.

About an hour later she heard someone knocked on the door. She jumped up on her feet and ran to the room where he left the boy and grabbed the basket, hurrying back to the cellar with it. "Maybe I should leave him here forever instead of having to run down with him anytime they knock on the door."- she thought. She put the basket on the floor and went to open the front door. The priest, Father Fernand stood there.

- Jeanette, my child... in what awful condition I have to see you. - the priest clapped his hand in shock. Jeanette, as it was her name, looked at herself. she did not have the urge to get dressed. She was still wearing that bloody nightgown she has been wearing for hours.

- Maurice has to be buried, Father.

- Yes, but we have more important thing to do now. I can't help the dead any more, but I have to save a little soul for Heaven. Where is he? - Jeanette brought the child up from the cellar and put him in front of the priest.

- What his name will be? - the priest asked as he lifted the basket and put the child out of it. Jeanette did not reply. - I think, if he is a boy, the simplest thing we can do is to name him after his father...

- No! - Jeanette exclaimed- I don't want that! - she was sick of that thought. How could she name this monster who killed his father Maurice? No... even the thought is disgusting.

- How should we name him then?

I don't know. - she was thinking hard. Boy name, boy name... every boy name is too good for this. This is not even a boy, this is a monster, why he should have a name at all?

- Do you have a calendar? - the priest asked, seeing the woman's inner pain.

- Yes I do- she sighed of relief and she ran out of the room, and arrived back with a new calendar for the next year. She thought she will open it at a random page and the boy name at that page will be his name, or if it is a girl name, then the next boy name she will chose. She showed the page to the priest and he nodded. The boy was baptized at the very night of his birth.

**Marseilles, France October, 1870**

-I am so sorry about what have I done... to you... I did not... love you enough... you were a remarkable child... you were a little genius.

The priest looked up as he heard the ill woman softly whispering something, but he could not hear what she was saying. He tried to wake her up once before when he was waiting for too much time for her to continue her story. The things he scribbled down to that paper were just memories of an ordinary woman. Not any bad secret could be seen in these words. She left her home in a young age? How many teen girls do that...

- Jeanette, my sister... - no answer came. The priest gently walked towards the bed and took the woman's cold and thin hand.

- Noel?- the woman asked softly and smiled. The priest sighed and seeing she did not much time left, he gave her the final sacraments and waited.

The clock on the mantelpiece hit 4 o clock in the afternoon when the priest slowly walked downstairs. The nervous maid jumped up to greet him and looked at him worriedly.

- She is now with God, Marie- Sophie. I think it will be good if you contact the ones who want to come to the funeral.

- Oh my Lord... why...? - the girl started crying hard and she ran out of the room. The priest sadly looked around. "I wish I knew what she wanted to say at the end." he thought, and with slow steps, he left the house.


End file.
